


try to listen

by bitterheart



Series: a kaleidoscope of memories [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Making Up, references to emotional manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: "And what about you?" Sylvain asks quietly."What about me?""If we hadn't seen each other back then. Would you be happier now?"Felix doesn't answer.Felix and Sylvain talk.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: a kaleidoscope of memories [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627099
Comments: 11
Kudos: 120





	try to listen

**Author's Note:**

> This is written, more than a month late, for FE3H Song Week Day 7: Sad, Beautiful, Tragic by Taylor Swift. Title taken from the lyrics of the same song.
> 
> Apologies to anyone who has been waiting for the next instalment of this series! This ended up being much longer than I anticipated.

_you've got your demons, and, darling,_   
_they all look like me_

Sylvain's apartment feels empty in the pale light of dawn.

This early and the day feels fragile, the sunlight weak as it filters through the clouds hanging in the sky, the rhythmic patter of raindrops dripping from the trees that line the street. Or maybe it's just Sylvain projecting. 

He stands at his bedroom window, forehead pressed to the cold glass, and wonders if it was raining when Felix left last night. 

It shouldn't matter. Sylvain steps away from the window with a heavy sigh that rattles the edges of the early morning tranquility. Felix shouldn't matter, and Sylvain shouldn't care. 

Sylvain can think it as much as he likes. It doesn't change anything. 

He picks his clothes up from where they're scattered across the floor, folding them into a neat pile on his bed in an attempt to get some order back into his life. It doesn't help. Not when half the clothes he's picking up are the ones he gave to Felix. 

They still smell like him. The smell still lingers in Sylvain's room, like his very apartment is doing its best to cling to Felix when he's already long gone. The sharp mix of pine and spice had been heady when Sylvain had Felix pressed up against him but now, it just makes him feel lonely. 

Sylvain opens the window even though there are grey clouds hanging in the sky with the promise of more rain. He needs fresh air in this room while he showers. At least when he gets out, his room will smell less like Felix. 

It helps to wash last night off his skin. Unlearning the feeling of Felix's hands on his skin will be harder, especially when Sylvain is covered with hickeys, scratches and bruises to remind him. He'll take it one step at a time and now, his next step is to proceed with the rest of his morning. 

This is the difficult part. Despite all the promises he made himself yesterday about not having any expectations for how the night would pan out, they'd built themselves up without him even noticing. The way Felix looked at him, the way Felix touched him, every little thing combining into a fantasy for how their morning would go. One that had shattered the moment Felix left in the middle of the night. Now, there's nothing left for Sylvain to do except pick up the pieces. 

He sighs as he walks into the lounge room, where the two mugs of tea from last night are still sitting, cold and untouched. He frowns when he notices something between them, stepping closer for a better look. 

Felix's glasses are sitting on the coffee table, still unfolded and haphazardly tossed there from when he'd taken them off last night. Left behind in Felix's haste to leave. 

Sylvain swears under his breath. He can't do this. He grabs a jacket, his phone and his keys, walking out of his apartment. He can't be there right now. He doesn't want to touch those mugs of tea, or even look at Felix's glasses.

His feet lead him down the street, away from the small shops and cafés nearby and towards the park instead. There aren't many people out this early and in this weather, and Sylvain is glad for it. He needs to be alone right now, and it's always helped to go for a walk when he needs to calm himself down. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, and follows the paved path leading through the grass of the park. It winds through a small garden and leads to a playground. The bright and bold colours of the climbing equipment stand out against the grey morning and Sylvain pauses for a moment just to appreciate the sight before he keeps walking. 

The park connects to another street some blocks away and Sylvain follows the path until he's on the street once again, nodding in greeting at people walking their dogs as he makes his way towards one of the cafés nearby. 

Sylvain has always liked cafés, for the opportunities they give him to just sit back and observe the people around him. Right now, he's just grateful that there are barely any other people sitting inside. He settles at a table in the corner with his coffee, scrolling through news articles on his phone just to have something to keep himself occupied. He stays, ordering another coffee until the morning gets busier and the café begins to fill with other people.

He walks home, grateful for the fact that he's managed to kill a couple of hours, but he doesn't feel any better for it. When he lets himself into his apartment, he leans back against the door and sighs quietly. 

He still doesn't know how to deal with this. 

He calls Ingrid, smiling with appreciation when she picks up on the second ring. 

"Sylvain, if you're calling to brag about your night with Felix, I swear—"

"I'm not," he tells her softly. 

Ingrid immediately pauses. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Everything. "Are you free? Can you come over? I'll make those chocolate pancakes you were telling me about the other day."

"I'll be there as soon as possible," Ingrid tells him, and he can already hear the jangle of her keys as she picks them up. 

"Thanks Ingrid. You're my favourite."

He takes the mugs of tea to the kitchen, washing them out and getting started on the pancakes. He has an impressive stack by the time that she arrives, sitting ready on the table for both of them. 

"Hey," he says, kissing her cheek as he lets her in. "Sorry for calling you over."

"You're playing your Felix song again," Ingrid comments, raising an eyebrow as _State of Grace_ plays from Sylvain's phone. "What happened? Did he stand you up?"

"Worse," Sylvain says with a smile, turning his music off as they sit at the table. "So much worse, Ingrid. Last night was amazing. He was there, we both wanted each other the same way, I brought him home—"

"I don't need the details," Ingrid interrupts firmly. 

"Wasn't gonna give you any," Sylvain replies. "But everything was going so well, up until the moment he decided to leave in the middle of the night."

He isn't sure, exactly, how he's expecting Ingrid to reply. It definitely isn't for her to burst out laughing. 

"Wow." She covers her mouth with her hand, shoulders still shaking. "Holy shit, he did a _you_."

"Yes, thank you Ingrid," Sylvain says, annoyed. "I appreciate you laughing at my heartbreak. I feel so loved."

"You know I love you but you also know that you've done this exact same thing to countless people yourself," Ingrid tells him. "Am I upset that Felix did this to you, with no explanation for why he's acting the way he is? Incredibly. I'm not even processing how angry I am with him at the moment but once I do, he's going to have hell to pay. But I'm not about to sit here and let you feel sorry for yourself for getting a taste of your own medicine. How many people have you promised the world to only to sneak out of their bed in the middle of the night without even having the decency to wait until morning?"

"Ouch, okay," Sylvain grumbles. "I get it. I won't do it again."

"You've said that before."

"I mean it this time." Sylvain insists. He sighs loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. "I was ready to give all of that up anyway. I thought that what I had with Felix was real. I thought it would last." 

Ingrid blinks at him with surprise. "Are you… actually being serious?"

"I'm serious," Sylvain replies. "About Felix. About my feelings for him. I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone else in my life. I don't think I ever will." 

Ingrid considers him for a long moment, brows drawn together, and her voice is gentle when she speaks. "You're not just talking about your feelings since you saw him at the concert." 

Sylvain laughs hollowly. "No, I'm not. I don't even know how long these feelings have been here for, Ingrid, isn't that messed up? I haven't seen him for what, nine years? How long did I feel this way about him before I moved away? Why didn't I ever notice it before? What the hell have I been doing for all those years? Just… fucking around because I've been in love with my childhood best friend all along without even knowing it and I'm never going to be with him? Is that just going to be me for the rest of my life?" 

His voice is shaking and Ingrid reaches across the table, taking his hand into hers.

"Sylvain…"

"Don't," he tells her, his voice cracking. "If you actually start feeling sorry for me, I'm probably gonna cry." 

She squeezes his hand before letting go. When she pulls her phone out of her pocket, her jaw is set and expression is determined. 

Sylvain bites back his bitter laugh as she opens her contacts and taps on Felix's name. Of course she has his number. 

And of course Felix answers, when it isn't Sylvain calling. 

Felix must be on the defensive because the first thing Ingrid says is, "I do not give a single fuck, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, you will shut up and _listen to me_ , understood?" 

Sylvain blinks with surprise, so used to Ingrid's angriest tone being directed at him. It feels strange to see her on the war path without being the one in her path. 

"I don't want your excuses, Felix. I don't even care if you have a good reason, I'm not the one who has to hear it. Tell Sylvain. You need to pull your head out of your ass and stop resigning yourself to being miserable all the damn time." Ingrid glares at Sylvain as she adds, "Both of you. I'm not going to play mediator for you. If you have something to say to Sylvain, tell him yourself."

Ingrid is quiet as Felix speaks. As much as Sylvain strains his ears, he can't make out what Felix is saying on the other end. Ingrid lets out a quiet, annoyed huff.

"I'm not taking his side. And I'm not taking yours either. You're both idiots and it's annoying to have to witness it. Get over yourselves and just talk to each other. Refusing to see him isn't going to help anyone."

"Uh… Felix," Sylvain says, loud enough to be heard on the other end of the phone. He's both surprised and relieved that his voice comes out even. "You left your glasses here, by the way. Just. You know. In case you were looking for them."

Felix says something then, and Ingrid puts her phone down on the table, hitting the speaker button.

"Okay, he can hear you."

Sylvain's heart sinks. This isn't how he wanted to talk to Felix at all. 

"I knew you'd be there with Ingrid," Felix says by way of greeting.

"Hey Felix," Sylvain says, as cheerful as he can manage, which ends up coming out sarcastic instead. "So it turns out you _do_ know how to answer a phone call. I'm shocked."

Ingrid glares at Sylvain. 

"Are you going to hold that against me forever?" Felix asks.

"Does it even matter?" Sylvain replies. "Seems to me that if you had it your way, we'd never see each other again anyway."

Felix is silent for long enough that Sylvain worries that he's hung up. His voice is quiet when he says, "I don't want that."

"Well, I have no idea what it is that you _do_ want, Felix," Sylvain sighs. This is exhausting. "But I don't want to have this conversation over loudspeaker. Can we talk? Face to face? You could come here to pick your glasses up, or we could go somewhere else. Somewhere more public, so we're not just alone together? A café, maybe."

Felix doesn't reply immediately. Sylvain watches the phone nervously, fidgeting as he waits until Felix finally says, "Sure. This afternoon maybe."

Sylvain's shoulders sag with relief. "Tell me where and when. I'll be there. I can bring Ingrid too, if you don't want it to be just you and me."

"She doesn't have to come," Felix says. "But I'll text her the address for the café. See you at three." 

"Okay." Sylvain shoots Ingrid a smile, not even needing to see her reaction to know that it's the least convincing smile he's ever worn. "I'll see you at three, Felix."

Ingrid hangs up, and Sylvain drops his head into his hands, leaning forward until his forehead is pressed against the table.

"Are you…" 

"I'm definitely not okay," Sylvain replies. 

Ingrid pats his head from across the table. "At least we have pancakes?"

"Yeah," Sylvain lifts his head, giving her what he hopes is a more convincing smile this time. "At least we have pancakes."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
It's ten to three when Sylvain walks into the café where he's meeting Felix. He's double and triple-checked the address in the message Ingrid forwarded to him, afraid that he'll get the place wrong, or the time wrong, or that Felix won't show up at all. 

Instead, he finds Felix already sitting at a table tucked away in a quiet corner, frowning at the menu in his hands hard enough to burn a hole through it. Sylvain lingers in the doorway, taking advantage of the fact that he hasn't been noticed yet to drink in the sight of Felix once again. He's as beautiful as ever. 

Taking a breath, Sylvain walks over to the table and sits down across from Felix. "Hey." 

Felix looks up at him, his amber gaze sharp and guarded. "Sylvain."

He's wearing a sleeveless turtleneck that hides the hickeys Sylvain left all over his neck. Sylvain hasn't bothered hiding the marks Felix left on his skin, the hickeys and bruises and bite marks on full display along his neck and across his clavicle thanks to the deep v-neck of his shirt. Felix pretends he's not staring at them.

"Here." Sylvain pulls Felix's glasses out from where they've been burning a hole in his jacket pocket. "Were you okay without them today?"

Felix pulls his glasses case out of his jacket and puts his glasses away. "I was fine. I'm wearing contacts now."

"How about when you were getting home?" Sylvain asks. "I don't know how strong your glasses are but it would have been annoying trying to get home in the dark without being able to see as well as you'd like—"

"Wait," Felix interrupts. "You're really asking me if I got home safe? After I walked out on you in the middle of the night."

Sylvain doesn't flinch but only because he's used to used to people saying worse. "Yeah. That's what I'm asking."

Felix looks away with a huff, brows drawn together. "I'm surprised you even care. I thought after last night, you'd be too angry for that. I thought you'd be too angry to want to see me. If you just wanted to return my glasses, you could have just asked Ingrid to do it. She'd probably love the opportunity to rip into me." 

"Probably," Sylvain agrees. "And I _was_ angry. I wish I still was. I want to be. Goddess, Felix, this would be so much easier if I hated you and never wanted to see you again."

"But you don't," Felix says, clearly doing all he can to keep his tone neutral. 

Sylvain laughs hopelessly. "Maybe I'm a little upset but mostly, I'm just happy to see you at all. Every single time you walk away, I feel like I'm never going to see you again. Every time I see you, it feels like we're starting all over again. And every single time, I'm just happy to see you again."

Felix gives him a wretched look, like Sylvain is the one hurting him. Before either of them can say anything, a waitress comes to their table to take their order. Felix looks like he's grateful for an excuse to focus on something other than Sylvain, and Sylvain is just glad that the waitress is asking a question that has a simple answer. He lets her go without flirting, and only realises how unusual that is after she's already gone.

"You have a weird look on your face," Felix mumbles, avoiding eye contact with Sylvain. 

"So do you," Sylvain replies. "What's that about?"

Felix frowns and doesn't reply immediately. Sylvain leans back in his chair and waits. Back when they were younger, Felix used to be so open about how he felt. Now, Sylvain is learning to give him time without pushing.

"I think I'm happy too," Felix says at last. "Every time I see you. To know you're still here. You told me last time that you weren't going to chase me again so I thought…"

"You thought that was it," Sylvain finishes for him. Maybe, if he had any self-respect, it would have been. "But… you didn't want it to be?"

Felix shakes his head without a word. 

"Well, shit." Sylvain laughs hollowly. "I don't get you, Felix. Why didn't you stay?"

"I couldn't." Felix shakes his head. "If I stayed, I'd just end up hurting you."

"That's bullshit," Sylvain says evenly, doing his best not to raise his voice because he knows that drawing attention to their conversation will be a surefire way of making Felix shut it down. "You know what hurt? Waking up in the middle of the night to you psyching yourself up to leave. Begging you to stay and having you walk out all the same."

"That's not what I was doing," Felix insists. "I was trying to convince myself to stay."

"Do you think that makes me feel any better?" Sylvain asks. "Do you think it makes a difference, when you left regardless? Fuck's sake Felix, it hurts anyway. You say you're trying not to hurt me but you're hurting me anyway and here I am, just letting you do it because I'm stupidly in love with you."

Felix goes very still then and Sylvain bites the inside of his lip with frustration. He's always used the word easily and without meaning it with others but he means it now and he's said it much too soon. 

"What does that mean, anyway?" Felix mutters, gaze fixed on his hands clasped tightly together on the table. "How do you love me when you haven't even known me for nine years? You don't even know me any more."

Sylvain sighs. "Felix—"

"No." Felix laughs, quiet and shaky. "No, Sylvain. Maybe you're in love with a—a memory of who we were when we were kids and what we were to each other then. You can't just throw that word at me now, when we just happened to meet again by chance, and don't you dare tell me that it was meant to happen or any other nonsense. It was just chance. Maybe you'd be happier if it never happened at all."

"And what about you?" Sylvain asks quietly. 

"What about me?"

"If we hadn't seen each other back then. Would you be happier now?"

Felix doesn't answer. He keeps his eyes fixed on his hands, even when their drinks arrive. 

"When you moved away back then," Felix says at length, turning his coffee cup in his hands and looking at it instead of at Sylvain, "I was miserable. It was like losing a part of myself. And then Glenn died. And then all the shit happened with Dimitri's family and he hasn't been the same since and—I was just done, you know? I was done with losing people. I told myself that it'd be better if I didn't have anyone to lose in the first place. Whenever I'm with you, I just get more afraid of losing you again."

"So why are you trying to hard to lose me?" Sylvain asks. "You can't just avoid this by _not_ having me, Felix. It doesn't work like that, and it's too late. You already have me, Felix. I'm yours. If you don't want me, then you need to tell me. Not that you can't, or you shouldn't, but you _don't_. Just say it, and I'll leave you alone."

Felix grips his cup tighter, brows drawing together. "…You know I want you."

Sylvain takes a breath, sipping at his coffee as the relief floods through him. It buys him the time he needs to pull his thoughts together. "Maybe you're right and I'm just in love with what we had. I've never met anyone who mattered so much to me since then. I just wanna know you again. All the things that have changed, and all the things that haven't." 

"Do you want to be friends?" Felix asks, and he doesn't offer an alternative but the way his ears turn pink tells Sylvain enough.

"Honestly?" Sylvain folds his arms on the table and leans in conspiratorially. "I don't think I've ever wanted to kiss a _friend_ this badly."

Felix's gaze drops to Sylvain's lips, the blush spreading down his neck where it disappears under his high collar. "I thought you were upset with me."

"Oh, Felix." Sylvain grins. "Do you think that changes anything? Why do you think make-up sex is so good?"

"We're in _public_ ," Felix whispers, but he doesn't look embarrassed the way Sylvain expects him to. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he probably doesn't even realise how devastatingly gorgeous or inviting he looks.

"My point is, yes I want to kiss you." Sylvain gives Felix a smile. It's his most genuine one: crooked and adoring. He doesn't think he's worn this smile since the last time he gave it to Felix, years ago. "I want to kiss you all the damn time."

Felix makes a soft noise at the back of his throat as he considers that. Sylvain drinks his coffee, giving Felix the time he needs to process everything; Sylvain's words, the situation they're in, and what to do next. Now that he's fairly sure that Felix won't bolt, he can let himself relax a little. 

"You forgive too easily," Felix mutters, watching Sylvain with a light frown. "This… shouldn't be this simple."

Sylvain laughs and gives him a helpless shrug. "What can I say? I've never been good at staying angry at you. Not when we were kids, and not now. Besides, wanting you is the easiest thing in the world. Everything's always been easy with you. I'm willing to bet that's something that hasn't changed over the years."

Felix snorts with amusement. "I think you're the only person in the world who would ever describe me as _easy_. I've been doing my best to be difficult, you know."

"I know." Sylvain reaches across the table, stroking his fingers along Felix's wrist. "And here I am anyway."

Felix's ears turn redder than Sylvain thought was possible. "Is this a date now?"

"Please," Sylvain chuckles. "My dates are so much better than this."

"Are they?" Felix takes a deep breath, clearly steeling himself. "Show me."

Sylvain can't help but be charmed. He grins, squeezing Felix's fingers between his before letting go. "Tonight?"

"You're eager."

"No shame in that."

"I'm not convinced you've ever felt shame at all," Felix retorts. "What time?"

"Seven. I'd text you the address but I'm pretty sure you blocked my number last night and I'm not exactly eager to confirm it."

"I deleted it," Felix admits. "On my way home last night, I deleted all our messages to each other. It didn't even occur to me to block your number first. Besides, you said you weren't going to chase me next time. The way you said it made me believe you wouldn't."

"And I wouldn't have, if not for your glasses. Or Ingrid."

Felix huffs out a laugh, sliding his coffee cup across the table until it clinks dully against Sylvain's. "To Ingrid."

Sylvain pulls his phone out, texting Felix the address to a restaurant. "There."

Felix raises an eyebrow. "Without making a reservation?"

Sylvain grins. "I'm Sylvain fucking Gautier. I don't need to make a reservation."

"Hm. Here I thought your middle name was Jose."

Chuckling fondly, Sylvain puts his phone down and reaches across the table for Felix's hand again. "You're gonna make me _work_ to impress you, huh?"

"Well, I already know you're good in bed and you're persistent enough to deal with my bullshit, so you've got that working in your favour." Felix slots their fingers together, thumb stroking across the back of Sylvain's hand. "But if you want to keep trying, go ahead."

"Just you wait until dinner," Sylvain promises, already planning out the best possible date he can pull together in a few hours.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sylvain is more nervous than he's ever felt in his entire life.

It's an uncomfortable feeling, and not one that he's used to feeling before a date. This is usually his comfort zone. He's been on more dates than he can even count, and they've never mattered to him the way this one does. 

Then again, no one's mattered to him the way Felix does. 

He stands in front of the mirror, fussing over his outfit. He's settled for dark jeans, a casual blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a buttoned shirt with the top three buttons left undone, his hickeys covered with concealer. He tousles his hair until it sits right and stands back, frowning at his reflection before deciding that he's finally happy with it. 

The restaurant they're meeting at is on the fancier side but he hasn't chosen this place for its prestige or its expensive menu. It helps that he knows the head chef, but the real reason he wants to take Felix there is because of the building itself. 

The design of the entire restaurant is a delicate balance of glass and metal, and Sylvain knows he's made the right choice when he shows up to find Felix standing across the street, taking the building in. 

Felix is in another turtle neck, under a black blazer with teal trim. He has his hair pulled into a low braid, some of the strands already coming loose and framing his face like it's a work of art. 

There's a familiar ache that takes up residence in Sylvain's chest as he looks at Felix. It's the kind of pain that almost makes him regret realising that his feelings for someone can run this deep. 

Almost. Sylvain decides that he'll wait and see how tonight goes, for a start. 

Crossing the street, he walks to Felix's side. Felix doesn't turn to him but leans into his side briefly, touching their arms together in greeting. 

"I have to say, I'm impressed already." Felix is still looking at the building. "I was expecting something similar to last night until you told me to dress up for the occasion."

"Well, last night wasn't a date and I had to pull out all the stops for you." Sylvain winks, thrilled when it makes Felix's cheeks colour. If this were any other date, he'd offer his arm but it doesn't feel right here. He doesn't want Felix hanging off his arm the way so many other dates have in the past. Instead, he just leans to the side and knocks their arms together again. "Shall we?"

They cross the street together and Sylvain is pleased about the fact that even if they aren't arm in arm, Felix stays close enough by his side that they brush against each other. He clears his throat as he gets to the podium near the entrance of the restaurant, pulling a business card out of his pocket.

"Oh," the waiter behind the podium's eyes go wide. "Mr. Gautier. Of course. This way, please." 

They're guided through the restaurant towards an area at the back. It's on a mezzanine level that affords a view of the entire interior of the place, and the table they're lead to is perfectly angled to show off all of the stunning view, from the polished wood columns that break up the floor to ceiling glass windows to the lights at the ceiling that make it look like the entire place is being lit by fairy lights caught in a net. 

Sylvain looks across to Felix when they sit, pleased to see the way he stares in awe with his mouth slightly open. Finally, Felix's gaze drops back down to their table, to Sylvain, and he blinks like he's still processing the wonder. 

"You really pulled out all the stops, didn't you?" Felix asks with a breathless laugh. "I can't believe your name got us this table, at this restaurant."

"Like I said," Sylvain grins. "It has to be good for _something_ , right?" 

Felix shakes his head disbelievingly, opening his mouth to say something else but his train of thought is interrupted when someone walks to their table. It isn't a waiter; they're wearing the uniform of a chef, and Sylvain's eyes widen in recognition.

"Mercedes," he greets, looking up into her smiling face. 

"I had to come and say hi," she says, looking at Felix curiously before she turns to Sylvain. "You know, I've been offering to let you bring your dates to my restaurant to impress them for the longest time and you've turned the offer down every single time. You can't blame me for being curious when you finally called and asked if we had a table to spare."

"Mercedes," Sylvain says, more urgently this time. 

Her smile says that she knows exactly what she's doing, and Sylvain feels his heart sink as she turns to Felix.

"Our silly boy here is somehow of the impression that people only ever want him for his name or his money. He's good at playing the role they expect of him but you won't let him get away with that sort of thing, will you?"

"Um." Felix swallows, looking between Sylvain and Mercedes. "No."

Mercedes beams, like Felix has passed a secret test. He probably has. "Wonderful. You take care of him, hear? And if he starts thinking that people only like him for what's on the surface, well, I've always found that a swift whack to the head with a book helps."

"I'll keep that in mind," Felix replies, his lips twitching into a smile. 

"I like him," Mercedes tells Sylvain in a stage whisper. "I hope you bring him back sometime."

"Uh." Sylvain rubs the back of his neck, looking at Felix before looking away. "I mean—"

"We haven't even had any food yet," Felix steps in, saving Sylvain. He arches a brow at Mercedes. "I can't decide if I want to come back before I've even tried anything yet, can I?"

Mercedes grins wider. "Oh, Sylvain, I _really_ like him. Okay. Tell me what you will and won't eat, and I'll take care of the rest." 

"Not a fan of sweet things," Felix replies. "The spicier the better. That's pretty much it."

"I'll have someone out with your appetisers soon," Mercedes says with a decisive nod. She points at Sylvain. "And you. Don't screw this one up."

Felix watches her walk away, then turns to Sylvain. "So much for getting us a table on the strength of your name alone, huh?"

Sylvain laughs sheepishly. "What can I say? It felt more believable than the fact that I'm good friends with the head chef of a restaurant that has a Michelin star."

"This is about what she said, isn't it?" Felix asks. "The whole thing about thinking people only take you at face value. I know you better than that."

"It's like you said in the café earlier." Sylvain sighs. "You _used_ to. I mean, that's what tonight's about, right? Starting over?"

"That doesn't mean we're back to square one," Felix replies. "I don't think that's possible for us. It might have been years ago, but we still grew up in each other's pockets. You said it yourself, there are parts of us that have changed but there are still parts that stayed the same. We still have all of that."

"You're right," Sylvain agrees with a smile. "We do."

With that, he feels his nerves finally settle. Felix is already impressed by the restaurant and Mercedes is doing her best to win him over with the food. All Sylvain needs to do is focus on getting to know him again. 

Felix has never been overly talkative, and that hasn't changed. Sylvain doesn't mind. He's worked with it before and he can do it again. It helps that Felix is in a good mood. Mercedes has sent out wine for them both along with their appetisers. They receive two separate plates and Sylvain is glad for it when he notices just how much spice is in Felix's. 

"Is she testing me?" Felix asks, his eyes bright with the challenge. 

Mercedes probably is, even if it's not in the way Felix assumes but Sylvain can't even bring himself to mind when it makes Felix smile the way he does when he finishes his plate of spiced and fried cauliflower, potatoes and cheese. He doesn't even go for the water immediately after, and it's Sylvain's turn to be impressed. 

He's similarly impressed for the rest of their meal. Mercedes sends out six courses, the flavour in all of them beautifully balanced. Felix unwinds thanks to the good food and the equally good wine, and Sylvain finds it easier to encourage him to talk. They catch each other up on the parts of their lives that they hadn't shared during high school and university and afterwards. 

Felix tells Sylvain about Dimitri too, who lost his entire family in an accident the same way Felix lost Glenn. 

"He broke under the weight of that loss," Felix says, slowly twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers. He seems distant for a moment before he blinks, snapping himself back to the present. "He isn't the same person he was when we were growing up and for the longest time, I couldn't stand that. I lost you, I lost Glenn, and then it felt like I lost him too. Like that was all my life was ever going to be."

Sylvain makes a soft, wounded noise and reaches across the table to cover Felix's hand with his, slowly pulling it away from the wine glass and twining their fingers together. 

"If the next word that comes out of your mouth is _sorry_ , I'm kicking you under the table," Felix warns. 

"It wasn't going to be," Sylvain replies. "As much as I wish it never happened, I'm not the one who made my family relocate."

Felix's lips twist into a wry and bitter smile that Sylvain doesn't understand but it's gone before he can ask. 

"Dimitri is getting the help he needs and doesn't seem as haunted these days. You're here." Felix shrugs. "I didn't think he'd ever be lucid again, and I never thought I'd see you again. I guess it's not all bad."

Sylvain squeezes Felix's hand. Felix squeezes back, and they're still holding hands as Mercedes walks to their table again. She doesn't say anything but the smile on her face is enough as she turns to Felix. 

"Well, I hope everything was to your liking," she tells him, "I just have one last dish for you both. Dessert!"

"I don't like—"

"I know," she cuts in cheerfully as she places the plates down onto the table, in that firm but gentle tone that Sylvain is used to hearing from her. "Just promise me you'll try it."

Felix doesn't pick up his spoon until Mercedes is well out of sight. He looks to Sylvain, who nods in encouragement, then finally scoops a small portion of his dessert into his spoon to taste.

Sylvain watches in wonder as Felix's entire expression changes. 

"Holy shit." Felix takes another spoonful. "This is the best thing ever." 

Sylvain's spent enough time around Mercedes in the kitchen to pick up on the ingredients of her dishes. He can tell there's cinnamon in this one, possibly some ginger. He's willing to bet the chocolate that Felix is eagerly eating is chilli-flavoured. His own dessert is different, to account for his sweeter taste, but no less complex. He's torn between enjoying his own food and enjoying the way Felix is eating his dessert with such enthusiasm, until he realises that he's staring, and Felix is shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Sorry." Sylvain looks away. "Shit. You're just adorable, that's all." 

"Adorable," Felix repeats dryly. 

"In my very biased opinion." Sylvain winks. "Don't worry. I won't make it public knowledge that Felix Fraldarius can be cute. I'd rather keep it all to myself anyway."

Felix regards him for a long moment in silence, and Sylvain worries that he's overdone it, that he's crossed a boundary and Felix has decided he's too much to deal with. Then, Felix grins. "Wow, you really thought I'd explode at you for that, huh?" 

"That was _mean_ , Felix." Sylvain laughs, holding a hand to his heart. 

"I guess you can be cute too." Felix hums around his spoon. "Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?" 

Sylvain freezes up. "I…"

"Maybe we could go for a walk after this," Felix suggests. "I don't really want to end the night yet."

"Yeah." Sylvain nods. He's definitely being too eager now, but he doesn't even care. "That sounds like a plan."

Once they've finished their desserts and Sylvain signals to the waitress for the bill, she approaches the table nervously. 

"Um." She's holding herself stiffly, clearly uncomfortable. "The head chef has informed the staff that we're not allowed to accept your money, Mr. Gautier." 

"Mercedes." Sylvain huffs a sigh. "Look, I'm sure she'll understand. Just tell her I was very pushy." 

"I'm more afraid of her than I am of you," the waitress replies, with an honesty that makes Sylvain have to bite back his smile. "She also left a message for you." 

Sylvain frowns at the slip of paper that he's given, unfolding it to find Mercede's familiar cursive: _I'll let you pay next time you bring Felix_.

He scrunches the note, dropping it onto the table. "Fine. You can tell her she wins this round." 

Felix waits until they're outside before he raises an eyebrow at Sylvain. "What did the note say?"

"Mercedes likes you." Sylvain leads the way down the street. "She hopes she gets to see you again."

They walk in silence for a few seconds before Felix takes a breath. "I hope so too." 

"Yeah?" Sylvain turns to him with a smile. "I'm glad. She's been a good friend of mine for years." 

Felix slips his hand into Sylvain's, trying to make it look casual even though Sylvain can see the blush of his ears in the light of the street lamps. "Tell me about how you met."

Sylvain laughs, leading them to the park that sprawls across the next block. There's a paved path lined with trees, all strung with fairy lights that give the entire park a warm glow. There aren't many others around at this time of night and Sylvain likes it that way. Felix is relaxed enough to press into Sylvain's side as they walk, sharing warmth in the cool night air. 

"I met Mercedes because I was trying to hit on her in a class we shared at university," Sylvain tells Felix. "She shot me down in that kind but savage way she has. I thought it was the best thing ever. Somehow, she let me stick around."

" _Somehow_ ," Felix snorts quietly. "Like you don't just draw people to you. I remember how it was when we were kids. Everyone thought you were the best thing ever. I hated it because it meant everyone else was trying to talk to you when we were meant to be spending time together." 

Sylvain ducks his head with a grin. "Yeah, well. That was before I moved. I wasn't the best person after that. I didn't exactly find the best coping mechanisms for dealing with the fact that I suddenly moved somewhere new and the only people who were familiar to me were my parents and my brother." 

Felix tenses against Sylvain's side. "Miklan got worse, didn't he?"

The only thing Sylvain can do is laugh. It's hollow and terrible, and he hates the way it makes Felix look at him. He keeps his eyes trained on the ground as he speaks. "I didn't think he _could_ get worse but that's my brother for you. Always full of unpleasant surprises." 

Felix squeezes his hand. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, what are you apologising for?" Sylvain nudges him gently. "It's not your fault."

If anything, that only makes Felix tense even more. He's frowning now, and Sylvain can feel the relaxed atmosphere from before vanishing like smoke. 

"Felix—"

"We need to talk," Felix tells him, the words coming out a little rushed. He doesn't meet Sylvain's eyes, but hasn't let go of his hand yet. "Can we go somewhere? Sit down, maybe?"

"Well, that's encouraging." Sylvain raises an eyebrow. "Okay. Wanna find a café, or…?"

"Somewhere with less people" Felix suggests. "Your apartment?"

"Well, this is definitely the weirdest way someone has invited themselves over after a date," Sylvain grins, but Felix doesn't smile. He sighs inwardly and then tugs on Felix's hand. "Okay. I'll call us a car." 

Felix holds onto his hand tighter, like he's the one afraid that Sylvain will suddenly pull away. They stand by the road, waiting for their driver to arrive, and Sylvain takes a deep breath.

"Can I just say something? Before we talk about… whatever it is that you need to talk about. I just want you to know something." 

Felix nods silently.

"I've really enjoyed tonight." Sylvain turns to him, thumb stroking over the back of Felix's hand. "Dinner. Seeing you. Talking. Everything. I really do want to bring you here again. I want to see you again. Keep seeing you again. If that's okay with you." 

"You say that like you're expecting me to disappear again," Felix says with a wry smile. "And that's my own fault."

"I'm all in," Sylvain says seriously. He can't remember the last time he's ever been this honest about his feelings before Felix. He doesn't think he's ever felt anything as deeply as he does now. "You don't need to answer right away. Especially when we still have this thing to talk about. But if you want me, Felix, I'm yours." 

Their driver arrives before Felix can reply. At the very least, he doesn't let go of Sylvain's hand for the entire drive to the apartment. It would be a good sign, if not for the fact that Sylvain can feel the tension running through Felix's entire body. Whatever he needs to talk about, Sylvain can tell that it's sitting heavily on his shoulders. 

"Sit down," Sylvain says gently once they're in his apartment, their jackets hanging on the coat rack by the door. "I'll make us some tea." 

Mostly, he needs to retreat to the kitchen to calm his racing heart. He doesn't know what's coming, and the only think he hates more than that is the fact that whatever it is, he's certain he's not going to like it. He pulls two mugs out of the cupboard and sets the kettle to boil, so focused on the task at hand that he doesn't even notice Felix coming into the kitchen until he feels a hand resting against his back. 

"Can I help?" Felix asks quietly. It's an apology, a peace offering, and Sylvain shuts his eyes and leans back into Felix's touch, drinking it in like he's parched.

"Just stay right there," Sylvain tells him. 

Felix rests his forehead against Sylvain's back, sighing shakily.

"You're giving me mixed signals, y'know," Sylvain tells him, filling their mugs once the kettle's boiled. "I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but—"

"I want you," Felix tells him. "I just don't think you'll want me after this." 

Sylvain slides a mug along the kitchen counter to Felix and turns to him. "I can't think of a single thing that would even make that possible. Come on, let's move to the couch."

Felix curls up on the opposite end of the couch to Sylvain, holding his mug of tea close to him. Sylvain makes himself comfortable, giving Felix the time to collect his thoughts. 

"I don't really know where to start," Felix says at length. "Maybe from when you moved away. How it was my fault." 

Sylvain frowns. "Your fault?" 

"I knew I liked you back then," Felix tells him. "You weren't just my friend. I was always so jealous when you'd spend time with girls instead of me. I wanted your attention. I liked you _so much_. Glenn knew. I think it was obvious to everyone. I've never been good at hiding how I feel." 

"I didn't know," Sylvain says softly. 

"Miklan did," Felix replies. "Or he figured it out because I was too obvious about it. He caught us once. Or he thought he did. We were lying in my yard, the leaves were falling because it was autumn." 

"I remember." Sylvain thinks back to how they'd jerked apart even though they weren't doing anything wrong. How his heart didn't stop pounding for a long time after that, not because they'd been interrupted by Miklan but because he'd been so close to Felix then, close enough to count his eyelashes, almost close enough to feel his breath. Whenever Sylvain thinks back to his childhood, it's always one of the biggest signs that he's liked boys for longer than he ever realised. 

"He thought were were… I don't know, that we were dating, I guess." Felix blows on his tea and sips at it. "He told our parents." 

Sylvain's heart sinks. "Shit."

"That's why your parents just uprooted you and moved without any warning," Felix tells him. "They just wanted to get you away from me. They didn't want to deal with… us, I guess. Miklan knew that your parents wouldn't like it. I don't know if he expected them to react the way they did, but all he cared about was pulling us apart." 

" _That's_ why?" Sylvain laughs in disbelief. "What the fuck? How do you even know? Shit—he told your dad too, didn't he? What did your dad say?" 

Felix shrugs. "He didn't care. Maybe he already knew. I don't know. You thought you lost your phone after you moved, but you didn't. Milkan stole it. Hid it. Every message I sent you, every voice mail—" 

"That fucker," Sylvain growls. "I don't get how any of this is your fault, though. It was _him_." 

Felix shakes his head. "It was me. He always knew he could use me to hurt you. Even before that. I don't know if you remember, how I started avoiding you for a while back then." 

"I remember that too," Sylvain nods. "I hated that." 

Felix takes a shaky breath. "Before that started, Miklan used to hurt you every time I went anywhere near you. Any time we played, any time you were at my house, whenever you went back, he'd hurt you." 

Sylvain shakes his head. "He'd hurt me _anyway_. That didn't have anything to do with you—"

"It did," Felix cuts in. He pushes his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to collect himself. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. "It had everything to do with me. It was deliberate, Sylvain. If I avoided you, he'd stop hurting you. When I started avoiding you for real, he didn't hurt you at all. Two weeks, and he didn't hurt you even once. Because he didn't have to. I was doing it for him. I was hurting you even worse than he was. He used to do the same thing with Glenn. He'd hurt me, and Glenn would realise what happened. He'd go and fight Miklan, but even when he won those fights he'd still end up upset because it didn't change the fact that I was hurt. I couldn't stop it from happening." 

"Felix," Sylvain says, his voice cracking. "None of that is your fault."

"It feels like my fault." Putting his mug on the coffee table, Felix settles back on the couch and hugs his knees to his chest. He looks small and vulnerable, and Sylvain finds a new level of hatred for his brother, for making Felix feel this way. "Even when I stopped avoiding you back then, I couldn't help but feel guilty whenever I spent time with you, knowing that it meant Miklan was back to hurting you. When you moved away, Miklan kept your phone for _years_. He called me on my sixteenth birthday. I still remember it. I still had your number saved into my phone. There was no way it could have been you but I hoped anyway. I answered, and it was him. Telling me what he did. Telling me why you moved away. Telling me how it was all my fault. How all I ever do is hurt you, even when I'm trying not to." 

"No, _no_ , Felix." Sylvain shifts closer to him on the couch, and when Felix doesn't withdraw, he reaches out, taking his hand. "I'm furious at Miklan right now. At my parents. But not you. Never at you. This isn't your fault, believe me. Miklan's good at this—he's always been good at making you think you're the one at fault while he's hurting you. He's done it to me all my life. Trust me, I can recognise it a mile off. You haven't done anything wrong."

Felix nods, his shoulders trembling. 

Sylvain pulls Felix into his arms, holding onto him tightly. "I've got you, okay? I know it's easier said than done when it comes to letting go of this kind of thing. I've been there. I'm not going anywhere, you hear me? I told you. You have me." 

This time, Felix wraps his arms around Sylvain and clings to him, face pressed into the curve of Sylvain's neck. Sylvain holds him through it, stroking his back in a gentle, steady rhythm until Felix stops shaking. 

"You okay?" 

Felix takes a breath, keeping his head where it is, resting on Sylvain's shoulder. "Yeah." 

"Do you want your tea?" 

Felix nods, reaching for it as Sylvain grabs it from the coffee table. 

"So this is why you didn't want to stay last night?" Sylvain asks, as they settle onto the couch together, Felix half sitting in Sylvain's lap. "That guilt got to you, huh?"

"I'm sorry—" 

"Hey, no. You don't have to apologise. I get it now. I'm not gonna deny that it hurt at the time but it makes sense now. Everything makes more sense now." Sylvain pulls Felix a little closer. 

"I always sucked at dealing… any sort of feelings, I guess." Felix sighs. "It's just harder when I have your brother's voice at the back of my head." 

"He is so lucky I have no idea where he is right now," Sylvain growls out. 

"He's not worth you getting in trouble," Felix insists. "The same way he wasn't worth Glenn getting in trouble when we were younger. I just don't want to think about him any more." 

Once they've finished their tea, Sylvain leans back against the arm of the couch, pulling Felix into his arms. "Is this okay?" 

"Mm." Felix rests his head on Sylvain's chest. "You still want me?" 

"More than anything." Sylvain presses a kiss to Felix's forehead. "Will you stay?" 

Felix shifts closer, resting his hand against the side of Sylvain's face, and pulls him into a deep kiss in reply. Sylvain kisses back, sliding his hands into Felix's hair. Their kisses are desperate and demanding, Felix pressing himself closer until Sylvain pulls back, panting for breath. 

"Hey," he says softly, his hands sliding down to Felix's shoulders. "Can we take it slow tonight? I want this, _trust me_. I just…"

"Not a first date kind of guy?" Felix asks with a wry grin. 

Sylvain laughs breathlessly. "I'm just. Not a dating kind of guy. Everything feels different when it's with you. If we're doing this, I want to do it right. My approach to sex is just… complicated. I think I need to work through my own shit there. You okay if we take things slow?" 

Felix kisses him again, a chaste press of their lips together this time. "Yeah. We can do that."

"Good," Sylvain sighs, kissing Felix again. "I just wanna kiss you all night." 

Felix is all too happy to do just that. They lie on the couch and kiss until their lips are bruised, until they're both too tired to do anything but rest their foreheads together and just enjoy the fact that they can do this. Until the hour starts getting late and Sylvain nudges them both in the direction of his bed. 

He's never undressed anyone the way he undresses Felix now, slow and relaxed, purely for the purpose of getting him out of his clothes and into comfortable shorts to sleep in. They're both half-hard and it would be so easy to press Felix into the bed, to grind against him until they both come, but Sylvain pushes the thought away, guiding them both under the covers where their legs tangle together and Felix presses his face into Sylvain's chest, breathing him in. 

It feels just like last night, but completely different at the same time. This time, as Sylvain shuts his eyes, he's certain Felix will be there in the morning.

It doesn't stop him from waking in the middle of the night anyway, heart thudding in his chest as he opens his eyes. Felix is still there, his hair pulled loose from his braid, his glasses sitting on the bedside table. The sight alone feels like a deep breath after spending too long underwater. He strokes his fingers through Felix's hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Mmnrgh," Felix grumbles at him, and Sylvain is impossibly charmed. "Sleeping." 

"Yeah." Sylvain is smiling too much to kiss his forehead properly the second time. "'Night Felix." 

Felix bumps his mouth against Sylvain's jaw, wrapping an arm around him tightly. "Sleep."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Sylvain wakes up with Felix sprawled half on top of him. His hair is in Sylvain's face, their combined body warmth is making him overheat, and he can't feel his arm because Felix is lying on top of it.

It's already the best morning Sylvain's ever had. He reaches for his phone to check the time, the numbers on his screen telling him it's a little past eight. Felix grumbles sleepily at him, rolling off Sylvain and onto his back, eyes screwed shut like he can ignore the fact that he's awake. 

"Hey," Sylvain greets, tucking a folded arm under his head and looking over at Felix. "Did you sleep well?"

Felix grumbles at him again. "You're a morning person." 

"And you're totally _not_ ," Sylvain laughs, rolling onto his side and pulling Felix against him. "Of course you're not. You remember when we did sleepovers as kids? You were always the last one to wake up the next morning." 

"Weekends are for sleeping," Felix declares, finally blinking his eyes open. "And if I can't have sleep, I demand coffee." 

"I can do that." Sylvain kisses Felix's forehead before sitting up. "Coffee and breakfast, how does that sound?"

"In bed?" Felix asks hopefully.

"Coffee, breakfast _and kisses_ , at the table," Sylvain replies, already making his way to the kitchen. 

He starts the coffee machine and then gets a pan out to start frying some eggs. Felix doesn't venture out of the bedroom until the smell of coffee is hanging in the air and when he does, he's wearing Sylvain's blanket like a cape. 

"Here." Sylvain hands him a mug of coffee, same as what he remembers Felix ordering at the café yesterday afternoon. He watches with satisfaction as Felix's eyebrows rise at the first sip. 

"You said I get kisses too," Felix reminds him. 

Sylvain laughs, putting his coffee mug down. He grabs the side of the blanket draped around Felix's shoulders to pull him closer, until they're chest to chest. He lifts his hands to hold Felix's face gently. "Yes I did." 

"Gross, morning breath _and_ coffee breath," Felix mutters, then kisses him again. 

"Here. Eggs on toast," Sylvain announces, as he fills both their plates. "You can tell me I'm amazing. I promise I won't let it get to my head."

"That ship sailed a decade ago," Felix snorts, but presses another kiss to Sylvain's lips all the same. "Thanks for breakfast."

"How are you feeling about everything today?" Sylvain asks once they sit down. "I know It's going to take a while to undo all the shit my brother's done, but…"

"It makes a big difference just telling you about it. The whole thing felt so much bigger when I was keeping it to myself. I didn't think you'd ever be able to move past the fact that everything happened because of me. I was worried that your parents were terrible to you because of what Miklan told them. They were never accepting. Or nice."

Sylvain shrugs. "Honestly? They were terrible to me anyway. I don't think I noticed them being any worse than usual." 

His answer only makes Felix frown harder. "You deserve so much better than them."

"Well." Sylvain reaches across the table and takes Felix's hand in his. "I have you now, don't I?"

"I'm a fucking mess."

"And so am I." Sylvain grins. "We can be messes together."

"Yeah." Felix drops his gaze to their joined hands, his lips twitching into a smile. "I guess we can."

**Author's Note:**

> One last fic to go and this series will be done! How exciting!


End file.
